


A Beautiful Mess

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-13 02:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19591147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: When Daryl Dixon discovers a familiar face in Atlanta amidst the chaos of the world coming to an end, he’s shocked to find that the girl he once felt so responsible for is revelling in life at rock bottom.  But, with the dead walking and her history plaguing her dreams, is she too far gone to save?





	A Beautiful Mess

**Author's Note:**

> This was an anonymous request on Tumblr that broke my heart a little bit, but I’ve absolutely loved writing it so thank you for sending it in, Anon. 
> 
> Please note, this story includes childhood abuse, drug use and alcoholism.

The thud of Daryl’s boots against the ground was the only sound as he rounded the corner of the building, fingers wrapped white-knuckle tight around his bow, poised to shoot at any moment. Running headfirst into a herd of walkers hadn’t been a part of his plan - the furthest thing from it in fact - but for the moment he seemed to have managed to lose them, snaking in and out of the maze of buildings in the small town just outside of Atlanta and keeping low, out of sight. Their rasping growls had faded into the distance, a problem for later on when he was trying to get the hell out of there, and he had finally found himself alone, having split off from the rest of the group to scope out the area whilst they continued north to an old warehouse just off the highway.

Pausing for a beat to catch his breath, he lifted a hand to his brow, shielding his eyes from the sun’s glare as he took in the small square where he now stood, long low buildings on each side. One was quite clearly a general store, its front window smashed in, the shelves inside standing empty, neglected. One was completely boarded up, the sign long-gone, a mystery, and to his left appeared to be some kind of town hall, a large clock mounted above the door, though its hands had frozen resolutely at ten to two. And then, immediately beside him, his own reflection staring back at him from the grime-covered glass in the doorway, was the liquor store. 

At first glance, it appeared untouched, unusual, he thought, given that the apocalypse had driven people to far worse than a little whiskey indulgence. There was unlikely to be much inside that could be of any use to the group, no real use anyway, but then, from his experience, most of them had a gun beneath the counter, a box of ammo stashed close by, and that was enough to spur him on, decide to check it out. He reached out a hand and grasped the door handle, wriggling it this way and that, grunting in frustration when it refused to shift. And then, with a shrug, he took a step back and sent a sharp kick into the weakest part of the frame. The wood splintered, swinging open to grant him access, and he pulled it closed behind him as he stepped inside, squinting through the gloom.

The first thing that hit him was the smell: stale booze, the heavy musk of sweat and the sickening tang of vomit hanging in the air. It turned his stomach and he groped for the bandana around his neck, hitching it up to cover his nose and mouth as he had on the ride over, though then it had been protection from the dust on the breeze and not the stench of desperate humanity. Sucking in a deep breath through the patterned fabric, he inched his way into the room, eyes sweeping left and right as he took in the shelves that lined the walls around him. They were stacked with dusty bottles, arranged haphazardly as if they’d been rifled through, and his gaze lingered for a moment on the golden amber of the bourbon, glowing even in the shadows of the room. If his brother had been with him, they’d have been loading up on the hard stuff, that was for sure, but Merle was gone, and so he turned towards the counter in the corner where the cash register stood. 

Striding across the room, content now that he was alone in the building, though he still strained his ears for the telltale sounds that the herd had found him again, he was so intent on checking the small drawers and cupboards that he almost didn’t notice the figure hunched against the wall, bony knees drawn up to her chin as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible, to disappear into nothing. She was just a dark shadow that he barely glimpsed out of the corner of his eye until his search disturbed her and she let out a muffled groan.

Daryl froze. Piercing blue eyes darted down to the shape which now shifted, legs stretching out for a moment before hitching up again, arms flopping at her sides, useless, jello-like. 

‘What the…' He tailed off, fingers drifting to wrap around the hilt of the knife at his belt, ready to tug it free should it be needed. 'Hey, y'alright down there?’

Nothing. Silence. 

He waited a second longer before nudging a sneaker-clad foot with his boot, eliciting another groan but not much else. 

'Hey, ya with me? Ya hurt? Ya bit?’

His growing concern fought for dominance with his unease when the figure slumped to the side, and he finally dropped into a low crouch so he could take up one of her limp arms and check for a pulse. It was there, he could feel it, but, as he let it drop again, he couldn’t help but notice the track marks that marred her skin. How in the hell anyone who was dumb enough to get high with the dead lurking around every corner had managed to survive this long he had no clue, and he wondered just how long she’d been there, even as she coughed, chest heaving and her head fell back against the wall behind her with a clunk.

Her cheeks were sunken, the dark circles beneath her eyes giving her a gaunt look so that he was sure if he hadn’t felt a pulse he almost would’ve thought she was one of them, the corpses, and stuck his blade through her skull without hesitation, but instead he slipped his fingers beneath her chin, pinching gently.

‘Hey, ya gotta wake up, girl. Things are bad out there. Ya gotta get up ‘n’ get yer ass outta here, ya hear me?’

Large eyes flickered open, pupils hiding any snatch of colour from the irises that would usually surround them, but it was that that did it - the look in her eyes, the slight curve of her lips as she murmured, ‘What?’ before twisting to her side and retching uselessly as Daryl rested a large hand on her shoulder. There was something so achingly familiar about her, and a lump formed in his throat as his mind flashed back ten years and transported him back to the little redneck town he used to call home.

*****

_‘Hey, ya doin’ okay?’ Daryl watched as the neighbour’s kid shrugged, then nodded, then shook her head before shrugging again. He knew from experience that teenagers were a jumbled mishmash of emotions and angst at the best of times, but he also recognised the dejected slump to her shoulders as she huddled on the porch steps, her elbows resting on her knees. Behind her in the house, raised voices spilled from the open windows, and then the shattering of glass as something was thrown, a projectile, he guessed, intended to injure, to wound, and he shuddered at the memories it stirred up within him. Yeah, he’d been that kid with nowhere else to go, nowhere to run, and he painted a tight smile on his face as he leant against the rickety fence that separated his yard from theirs, drumming his fingers absentmindedly against the rough wood. ‘What’s yer name, kid?’_

_‘Y/N.’_

_‘I’m Daryl.’ Somewhere inside a door slammed and she flinched. ‘They do that a lot?’ He gestured towards the building behind her and earned himself another nod. He’d noticed it, of course, over the past couple of months. Before, it had just been the girl and her mom living there, but then a guy had moved in, a boyfriend of her mother’s he assumed, and that’s when the fighting had started. Poor kid. He’d never spoken to her before, not in all the years she’d been living next door, riding her bike to and from school with that same haunted look on her face, but something had called to him today, filled him with the need to reach out. ‘My folks too, or they used ta. ‘Specially if my ol’ man had been drinkin’. Used to get the hell outta there when I could, head out with my brother. We’d go huntin’ or fishin’, anywhere y’know? Jus’ anywhere that wasn’t there.’_

_‘I don’t have a brother,’ she admitted, inching forward on the step as if fighting the urge to move closer, pulling on her fingers as she spoke, her voice quiet. ‘Or a sister. It’s just me. And I don’t really have anywhere else to go.’_

_‘That right?’ Daryl knew how that felt too. After all, Merle had left, hadn’t he? Gone off to join the military and gotten himself locked up for good measure. By that point his mom had been long dead and it had just been him and his pop, desperately trying to drink himself to death and taking it out on Daryl night after night when it didn’t come to claim him. He still called by some nights when the isolation got too much but these days Daryl refused to let him in. That was a perk of growing up, he supposed. His gaze fell on the kid’s bike, leaning up against the side of the porch, rusting in patches. It occurred to him that he’d come to mark the time of day now by the sound of her brakes squeaking as she pulled up by her front gate every afternoon when she got home. ‘That yer bike?’_

_‘Yeah.’_

_‘Yeah? Y’know it’s a heap of shit right now, but it don’t gotta be. Could clean it up real good, oil the brakes ‘n’ the gears ‘n’ whatever. It’d make it easier t’ ride too.’_

_‘I don’t really know how to do that stuff.’_

_‘I do. Ya could bring it round. I’ll show ya.’_

_‘Can we do it now?’_

_‘Course.’ He caught the nervous glance she shot back at the door behind her as the yelling continued and inclined his head, realising that she was afraid of getting into trouble. He couldn’t blame her, going on the escalating argument inside. ‘We’ll stick right here, alright? Yer mom or anyone comes out lookin’, they’ll be able to see ya right away.’_

_‘Alright.’_

_‘Alright. Come on over. Let’s get to work.’_

*****

'Y/N?' The girl before him retched again, though she brought nothing up, and she gave no sign of acknowledgement at the sound of her name. 'Shit, kid, that you? I’ll be damned.’

He was sure it was her now, didn’t really understand how he hadn’t seen it instantly, but then it was dark inside the store and she’d changed a whole lot since he last saw her. How old had she been? He racked his brain, trying to remember. A voice in his head told him that she’d been on the cusp of sixteen and that seemed to make sense, so he guessed it must be about right. But now… She must be twenty-five, he reckoned, twenty-six at the max. But she sure as hell didn’t look it. She seemed so tiny, malnourished, almost childlike with her gangling limbs and wide eyes, but at the same time her skin was dull and lacklustre, her hair lank, and she looked old, beaten down by life. It hurt him to see it, what she’d become, but he pushed those feelings down, focusing his mind on the present and the situation at hand.

'Hey! Hey, look at me!’ The dilated pupils flicked in his general direction, but it was as if she couldn’t really see him, as if he wasn’t really there. 'Hey, it’s Daryl. Ya remember me? Ya used to live next door with yer mom 'n’…’ He tailed off, realising his explanation was falling on deaf ears. Wherever the girl he’d known was she wasn’t in this shell, but he hoped that maybe she wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t find her again. Sliding an arm around her back and the other under her knees, he hoisted her up, lifting her easily as he eased himself upright. She weighed next to nothing and he could feel the jut of her bones through her clothes as he held her to him. 

'Shit, kid, when’d ya last eat?’

She didn’t reply and, as his foot kicked against an empty bottle that lay discarded on the floor, he realised that her diet didn’t call for that kind of sustenance anymore.

*****

_‘Hey, what’s that?’_

_It was getting late, the sky darkening with the dusk, and Y/N was sitting cross-legged on the path that led from his front gate to his porch as he slumped on the steps, a beer swinging from his fingers. It was getting to be a habit, finding her in his yard when it all got too much at home, but it wasn’t one Daryl particularly minded. Being a Dixon meant that most people in town tended to steer clear, keep their distance, and he found that he actually liked having someone to talk to, even if she was just a kid and he was just her escape. It was an easy friendship, listening to her bitch about school, a feeling he remembered well, and teaching her how to keep her bike oiled up, talking about teaching her to drive if her mom didn’t get something sorted for her soon. Hell, he didn’t have a whole lot to offer the girl but he could at least do that._

_But today the conversation had been cut short by the glimpse of a deep purple bruise on her arm, and he set his drink to one side, pushing himself up from the porch step and stalking towards her._

_‘S’nothing,’ she lied, tugging at the sleeve of her shirt to try and cover the mark, but his fingers found her wrist, yanking it towards him and pushing the fabric aside. It was nasty, mottled and spreading up her arm, and he realised in horror that the skin beneath was scarred, so similar to his own. The girl, it seemed, had been being used as a damn ashtray for long enough for the evidence to fade, and he growled under his breath at the thought._

_‘Who did this?’_

_‘Nobody. I told you, it’s-’_

_‘Don’t lie to me, kid. Was it ya mom? Or her asshole boyfriend, huh? I’mma kill that son of a bitch!’_

_‘No, don’t!’ She scrambled to her feet, tugging her arm free from his grip so she could raise both of her hands, as if she stood a chance at stopping him if he decided to go round there and rip the bastard limb from limb. ‘Please, Daryl, just don’t, okay? It’s fine.’_

_‘Ain’t fine.’_

_‘And what happens next then, huh? You go round there, punch him out, or her, and then you get taken away and locked up, and I’m on my own again!’ Her tone was pleading, her eyes wide, and he felt the rage simmering in his gut._

_‘It ain’t right, Y/N! It ain’t right that they can do this shit ‘n’ jus’- jus’ get away with it!’_

_‘I know.’ When he’d finally recovered himself enough to meet her gaze, he saw the telltale shine of tears in her eyes and he hated it. ‘I know it’s not, but, please, this is the best that things have been for me in a long time, Daryl. Please, don’t ruin it. I need you. I need to be able to come here. If you get arrested, I’ve got nothing. I’ve got no-one. Please.’_

_She was right. He knew it but he hated it, and he huffed a heavy sigh as he sank back down, resting his head in his hands. He was an adult. He should know how to handle this, but he didn’t have a damn clue what he was supposed to do now. ‘Who is it? Yer mom or her guy?’_

_‘Both,’ Y/N admitted. ‘They drink a lot. It gets out of hand sometimes.’_

_‘’N’ they jus’ beat on you?’_

_‘Yep.’ She hesitated for a moment before going on. ‘Like your dad, right? People talk.’_

_‘S’right.’_

_‘And you’re doing okay, so I figure I’ll get through this. I mean, as long as I can come here when I need to. You don’t mind, do you? I know I’m here a lot these days.’_

_‘I don’t mind.’_

_‘Then let it go, Daryl, please. You’re already doing enough.’_

_She settled herself beside him, leaning against him, her head falling on to his shoulder. She felt so impossibly small, so fragile, and he swore in that moment that he would protect her, whatever it took. He wouldn’t let them hurt her again._

*****

‘Do you know what she took?’ Carol’s hand was pressed to Y/N’s forehead as she crouched in the entrance to Daryl’s tent. He’d carried the girl back to the highway, agitated and alert, moving slow, keeping an eye out for the corpses that he knew lurked somewhere in the small town, but he’d made it out without another sighting. He’d wanted to climb back on his bike and get the hell out of dodge right then and there, but she was dead to the world, breathing but otherwise completely unresponsive, and he knew he needed a car to get her there. So, he’d waited. It had been two hours before the others had returned, slowing to a halt when they’d seen Daryl standing there with his precious cargo.

‘Not sure,’ he confessed. ‘She was high as a kite when I found ‘er. Reckon she injected it though, whatever it was.’

Carol inspected her arms and nodded in agreement. ‘There’s not a lot we can do for her now. She needs to sleep it off. If she wakes up-’

‘If?’ Daryl spluttered. He’d been gnawing on his thumbnail as she’d checked her over, and he tore a chunk away in his shock, the coppery tang of blood lingering on his tongue.

‘She’s thin, Daryl. Really thin. It looks like she hasn’t had a decent meal in weeks, and she’s obviously been using for a while. We don’t know what she took or how much. You need to prepare yourself for the fact that she might not wake up.’

‘I jus’ found her again,’ he murmured, and Carol’s face softened. She shot him a kind smile as she climbed back to her feet, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

‘Who is she?’ When his eyes narrowed, she let her hand fall back to her side. ‘She obviously means a lot to you.’

‘Used t’ be the kid next door,’ he explained. ‘Her folks beat on her. She used to come to me when she needed to get out. Never expected her to end up like this.’

Of course he noticed the way that Carol’s eyes drifted to her daughter, knew that the situation must sound horribly familiar. He’d seen the bruises on her arms too, knew her husband was a violent son of a bitch, but he couldn’t save everybody and that was none of his business. ‘Well, if she wakes up it’ll be good for her to have somebody here that she trusts. You should sit with her. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you.’

*****

_Daryl didn’t know what he was doing. He could hear Y/N’s cries behind him as he burst into the house that she’d run from on so many occasions, but he was blinded by rage, driven on by the image of her face when he’d opened the door to her just minutes ago. Her eye was puffy, swollen and bloodshot, already darkening from the blow, and her lip was split and bloody. Scalding hot fury had risen up inside of him and he’d snapped, pushing past her where she stood and marching across the yard, vaulting the fence and taking the porch steps of her home two at a time. Now he hammered on the door, determined to kick it down if they didn’t bother to answer, but it swung open almost immediately and he found himself face-to-face with the man who was responsible for the kid’s injuries._

_‘Ya piece o’ shit,’ were the only words that Daryl could force from his lips, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because his fingers were wrapping around the brute’s throat and thrusting him backwards until he was pinned against the wall._

_‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’_

_‘What am I doin’? Ya kiddin’ me right now? What the fuck do ya think yer doin’ messin’ her up like that? Ya see her face, man? Did you do that? Did ya? Did ya hit her?’_

_He didn’t wait for a reply. Bringing his arm back, he delivered a bone-shattering punch to the guy’s nose, ignoring the pain that shot through his knuckles to strike him again and again. At some point, he tumbled to the ground and Daryl followed, relentless in his assault, until he heard his name being screamed._

_That brought him back down to earth._

_‘Daryl! Daryl, please! No! Daryl!’_

_The blood was rushing in his head like white noise, and he shoved himself off of the man who now lay groaning on the hardwood floor, his face bloodied and broken. Staggering to his feet, he stared in horror at Y/N, tears streaming down her cheeks, before opening his arms to her so she could fall into them. ‘Shit, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean t’- I jus’- I swore I wouldn’t let him hurt ya, not again.’_

_‘You should go.’_

_‘Nah, I ain’t leavin’ ya here.’_

_‘It’ll be worse if you stay. I need to call an ambulance.’_

_‘Y/N-’_

_‘Daryl, it’s okay. I’ll be okay. But you need to go before my mom gets home or it’ll just make everything worse.’_

_‘I’m sorry.’_

_‘I know. Just go.’_

_He left._

*****

That had been the last time he’d seen her. He’d climbed onto his motorcycle and gone for a long ride out into the open country to cool down, revelling in the flow of the breeze over his burning knuckles, and when he’d gotten back it had been too late to knock for her, to check that she was okay. He’d fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep, exhausted from the heightened emotions and the adrenaline that had flooded his system only to drain away and leave him empty, and when he’d woken, their car had been gone. He hadn’t believed it at first, thought they must be at the hospital or something. Or something… The house had been abandoned. Drawers hung open, a sure sign that they’d been emptied in a hurry, and there was still food in the fridge. But nothing else. It was all gone. She was gone. He’d thought he’d never see her again.

Until now.

Daryl watched over her as she slept. Despite his efforts to distract himself he found that he couldn’t tear his eyes from her face, trying to find some trace of the troubled teenager he’d known beneath the years of hardship, and eventually he found that he could. She was beginning to look less pallid, the lines around her eyes smoothed out by her slumber, and he found that, when he stroked her wild tangle of hair back from her face, she was actually kind of beautiful. He wasn’t sure if it was age or hard living that had stolen the rounded cheeks of her youth away, but he was sure she’d still have the same smile if he could just coax it out of her, if she’d just wake up. 

_Please, wake up._

The truth was that he felt responsible for this, for how her life had turned out. There’d been a time when she’d told him he was all she had, and he’d sworn to protect her from her folks, from anything in the world that might hurt her, but it had all gone so wrong. In a split second he’d given in to his temper and it had driven the entire family away, so that they’d taken her from him just when she needed him most. He’d hated himself for a long time, even tried to track her down once or twice, but it had gotten him nowhere. And all the while she’d been sinking ever deeper. Drowning. And he hadn’t been there to pull her out.

The first time her fingers twitched, he thought he’d imagined it. It was such a slight movement out of the corner of his eye that he was sure it was just exhaustion playing tricks on his mind. But then she coughed and her whole body jerked upright as she clutched at her stomach, fighting to catch her breath. Daryl reached for the bottle of water at his side, unscrewing the lid and offering it to her. She took it and drank greedily, tossing it aside when it was empty. Only then did she blink her watery eyes and focus for the first time on his face.

‘W-where am I?’

‘Small camp outside o’ the city. How ya feelin’?’

‘Like shit,’ she admitted. ‘Wait, I… Do I know you?’

He smiled then. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight it. Even if she hated him for what he’d done ten years ago, she remembered him and that was a start. It was something, something he could build on. ‘Sure do, kid.’

‘Daryl?’

‘S’right.’ Her jaw dropped and he pressed on, determined to fill the silence. ‘Found ya passed out back in that liquor store. Looked like ya were on somethin’.’

Her eyes flashed, icy cold, and her look of wonder slipped. She shrugged.

‘What ya doin’ to yerself, girl, huh? Ya wanna get yerself killed?’

‘Don’t really care either way.’

‘S’bullshit.’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘Y/N-’

‘You don’t know me anymore, Daryl,’ she spat, trying to clamber to her feet but giving up when she found herself too weak, too shaky. ‘You have no idea… I’ve got nothing, do you understand that? Why the hell would I want to live this way?’

‘Why ya talkin’ like that?’ He hated to hear it, that she’d given up, that she was literally just waiting to die. It cut into his chest like a dagger, sending spasms of pain through his body.

‘How the hell else would I talk? There was no point before the world went crazy so there’s definitely no fucking point now.’

‘So yer jus’ gonna drink yerself to death, that right? Or OD? That what the plan is?’

‘S’not a plan. It just is what it is.’

‘What happened to you?’

She snorted. ‘What didn’t? You have no idea what my life has been like for the past ten years, Daryl, not a clue. So, why don’t you just keep your opinions to yourself?’ 

He’d heard enough. Pushing himself upright, he turned and stalked away. He couldn’t hear anymore. Not when he knew that he was to blame.

*****

‘I managed to get her to eat a little,’ Carol told him with a sigh as she sank down beside him. The campfire flickered and burned a few metres away, throwing out a circle of heat to combat the evening’s chill, but it did nothing to penetrate the cold that had taken hold of Daryl at the venom in Y/N’s tone. ‘She’s asking for a drink but I thought I’d leave that decision up to you.’

‘Cold turkey could kill her,’ Daryl observed.

‘True. But we don’t have the supplies here to wean her off properly, and we certainly don’t have whatever drugs she’s been taking. It might be the quickest, easiest option.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Ya talk to her?’

‘A little. She seems- She seems a little lost.’

‘She ain’t the same kid I knew, that’s for sure.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ She ran a hand over her short crop of silvery hair, staring off into the distance for a moment. ‘The thing is, Daryl, abuse like that, it follows you. It stays with you even after the abusers are gone. I’ve seen it. And you know… You know you should be rebuilding, standing stronger, taller, because you got through it, but you just don’t have the foundations you need to ground you, so you find yourself locked in this vicious cycle of wanting to escape and not being able to. She needs something to hold on to, somebody to hold her steady while she figure things out.’

‘Ya think?’

‘Trust me on this one,’ Carol told him, and he could feel the melancholy emanating from her, considered asking her more, but knew it wasn’t the time. ‘You should go talk to her, Daryl. I think she’d like to see you.’

He was anxious as he picked his way over to his tent. He could see her huddled in the doorway, head tilted back as she gazed up at the stars, and he didn’t speak as he settled himself down beside her, fighting the urge to flinch when she nestled into his side. Of course, he knew Carol was right. He’d been there. He’d found a way through it. His brother had helped. But Y/N had no one, and he couldn’t imagine how lost and alone she must’ve felt. He wondered where her folks were now, but knew that he had to wait for her to offer that information when she was ready. 

‘I’m sorry about before,’ she murmured.

‘S’okay. Ya were right.’

‘No, it wasn’t fair.’ She inhaled sharply, then turned to bury her face in his shoulder. He followed his instincts, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer. ‘Of course you don’t know. How could you? We just left.’

‘I looked for ya.’

‘I thought you would. I didn’t have a choice, y’know? They were so set on getting out of there and I just… I didn’t have a choice.’

‘Ya were just a kid.’

‘I feel like my life ended on that day. I lost myself. I didn’t have anybody, Daryl.’

‘I know.’ He felt emotion well up within him, forging a lump in his throat that he tried his hardest to swallow down even as tears pricked at the backs of his eyes. ‘But ya got me now, girl, alright? ‘N’ I ain’t goin’ nowhere. We’re gonna figure this out, you ‘n’ me.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know yet, but we’ll find a way. I let ya down before ‘n’ I ain’t doin’ it again. I ain’t gonna let nothin’ else hurt ya, I swear. ‘N’ that includes you. Ya gotta get off o’ this shit. Ain’t no room for that stuff these days. S’what got my brother killed. S’not gonna happen to you.’

‘I don’t know if I’m strong enough. I mean it Daryl, I still see them every time I close my eyes. They’re in my head, they’re in my dreams, and-’

‘Yer strong enough,’ he assured her. ‘’N’ when y’ain’t, ya lean on me, alright? I’ll sit up with ya all night if that’s what it takes. S’all gonna be okay.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know.’

*****

Y/N woke with a start, her pulse pounding in her ears, the pain of the blows being inflicted upon her in her dream sparking and ebbing away as she sat upright. Cool sweat clung to her skin, saturating her clothes and the tent around her span as she rubbed at her eyes, unsure if it was withdrawal that was churning in her stomach or panic from the nightmare. It was so hard to tell these days.

With a sigh, she twisted to look down at the man that slept beside her. Daryl Dixon. Whoever thought he’d stride back into her life, right when she thought she’d plummeted past rock bottom and straight into hell. True to his word, he’d sat up every night since he’d brought her back to his camp, watching over her, talking to her when sleep evaded her, and, when it finally came, he’d hold her close as if he could protect her from the monsters in her dreams. Of course, he couldn’t. But, she found, his presence forced them from her mind a little easier so that the images didn’t plague her for the endless hours after she woke, and she settled herself back down now, tucking herself against his chest and letting the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothe her. 

She still struggled. She thought she always would. And, with her system craving the sweet escape of hard liquor and chemical highs, every hour that passed only brought more pain. But it all seemed to pale in comparison to Daryl’s desperate need for her to be okay. He cared for her, truly, as much as he always had, and it had given her the drive to get through that she’d lacked before. He would always have her back, she knew that, and it made it that much easier to face each new day.

As he rolled in his sleep, his arm falling across her waist, the weight of it warm and comforting, she shifted closer, breathing in the musky scent of him, like the forest and summer rain. And then, she closed her eyes and let the darkness steal her away once again.


End file.
